


Burberry Brit

by Nalyra



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 21:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12639387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: An old college side job and its consequences.Well. Kinda.





	Burberry Brit

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I KNOW I'm supposed to work on my vampire fic, but this is all Sofancydancy's (on tumblr) fault - well, and of this picture:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also, it mixed with this [POST](https://bonearenaofmyskull.tumblr.com/post/134153419277/hey-id-really-like-to-hear-your-opinions-on-what), which addresses the fact that Bryan has labeled Hannibal as omnisexual and Will as heterosexual - but also said that a catalyst of some kind (he said "a sixpack of beer") could very well lead to them entering a physical relationship as well because of the intense emotional and mental connection.
> 
> Cue this fic which.... takes a bit of both influences and mixes them a bit.  
> Personally I would (and often do) label Will as more open by the way, because he is empathic after all - and he held himself as the lure quite willingly imho (not meant the slutty way, just that he was appreciative of what Hannibal had to offer, after all he wanted to run away with him even then as we know since the Red Dinner...). 
> 
> Ok, 'nuff said. Would love to hear your opinions if you have them :)

The question comes out of the blue, accompanied by soft chopping sounds, the rhythm perfect as always.

„I think we should add Burberry to our wardrobe.“

Will raises his eyebrows while finishing biting down on the carrot he snatched from beneath Hannibal’s knife, furrowing his brows right after. Burberry, huh. 

„I wasn’t aware this is a style you actually like.“

A quick look from Hannibal, gauging his reaction. Will tilts his head, eyes narrowing. Hannibal weighs his head, resuming his chopping.

„I was thinking about adding it to your wardrobe, to be precise.“

Ohhhhh. Will stops chewing, the pieces of carrot suddenly not so tempting after all. He forces himself to continue chewing, swallowing it down with a swig of white wine, stating with a small sigh.

„You know.“

Hannibal pauses for a split second, looking over once more, a rare sign of insecurity and vulnerability. Something in Will clenches for a moment at the sign of trust, easy now between them, after months of trying this life with each other. After having healed. And not much more. He smiles a bit lopsidedly, raising his left eyebrow in a „go on“ gesture. Hannibal clears his throat.

„I might even have a copy of that magazine somewhere.“

Will raises both eyebrows again this time, lips pursing in slight irritation. His mind races, the implications dizzying. He licks his lips after a moment, needing to know.

„Did you… did you buy it -after- you met me?“

A long pause, in which Will can literally see how Hannibal follows the line of thought and then regrets having asked, the implications obvious and there of course but not … felt before. When it was all just a game. Will pushes himself off the counter with his hip when nothing is forthcoming, the cold feeling of betrayal settling in his gut. Once more. He swallows and snatches his leather jacket and leaves the house, the cold, drizzling rain a soothing static. 

 

******

 

It’s a long walk down to the boat on foot, the house close enough to make a possible escape easy, but the shorter narrow path down made impassable by the rain. Will chooses the actual road on grounds of his dress shoes, soaked through already. And rather slippery. He exhales in a rush, sees how the air condenses for a moment in a little cloud of fog, white against the dark gray lined with silver streaks. 

He smirks to himself, wryly, sardonic self-loathing paired with abject resignation and irritation at himself, the time they have spent together now, after healing, one literally the best time Will can remember. Nothing to spoil on purpose or by accident, especially over a silly college side job that Will gave up as soon as he had enough money for his tuition.

Though, probably not so silly and inconsequential after all, especially if he caught Hannibal’s eye even then and… Will snarls quietly and then stomps on, cursing quietly to himself, his hair plastered to his skin, obscuring his vision a bit.  
He frowns and tries to recall their first meeting, the way he had tried not to be interested and failed spectacularly, all things considered. How Hannibal had sunk his proverbial claws in right away, effectively binding Will by sheer and desperate need for connection. 

And he had known. Known of him. Even before he had been Alana’s mentor at John Hopkins then. And then.. quite the subject in psychiatric circles, right?

Will recalls how Hannibal’s eyes had scanned his face, how his pupils had dilated. And he had taken it as professional interest. Will snorts, little droplets of water dripping off his nose. 

He pushes the door to the boat house open, the groaning sound grating on his nerves, sighing when he pushes his wet hair out of his face.

„I had always admired your form, yes. Imagine how ecstatic I was when I realized your mind matched your body, Will. That your… appetite could be honed to bond with my own.“

Will whirls around, cursing to himself, eyes flashing.

„For fucks sake, Hannibal, HOW the hell are you here already?“

Hannibal steps closer and Will realizes he is wearing one of their fallback suits from the boat, crinkled and dry, hair wet but combed back. Will snorts, closing his eyes, slowly shaking his head while holding up his hand, nonverbally asking Hannibal for silence.

„I… it’s a shame I didn’t get to see you all muddied up. You must have made quite the sight.“

Will sighs and then opens his eyes again, unfocused on Hannibal, looking past his physical form, antlers stretching, voice low.

„Honing my appetite… an interesting choice of words.“

Will swallows, voice almost inaudible over the rain, his hand lowering by increments.

„What kind of appetite?“

There is a pause and then Hannibal steps closer, vulnerability bleeding through the stitches in the hastily donned person suit. How easy these days to dismantle it. Will raises his head and then smirks wryly to himself, heart beating in his throat. Hannibal’s eyes flick back and forth on his, something sharp and hungry entering his features. His right hand comes up, halfway, stilling in the air between them.

„You must know by now, do you not, mylimasis?“

Will swallows, throat dry, his voice a whisper.

„I know you are in love with me.“

A flash of sharp teeth and Will feels the pang of it in his gut, sharp and fiery, like a knife. He licks his lips, watches how Hannibal’s eyes follow the movement, helpless to resist. He starts when Hannibal speaks suddenly, eyes dark but clear, voice raw but resolved.

„What is between us now, is sufficient, Will. I am aware your previous proclivities do not include this… appetite. I would rather have you at my side, sipping wine, forever, than risk losing you again.“

Will swallows, goosebumps erupting, shuddering slightly, suddenly cold. Hannibal drops his hand and then steps a bit back, nodding to the boat.

„You need to redress as well, Will. I did not feed you soup for two months with a straw for you to die of pneumonia now.“

Will snorts again and then grins at Hannibal, feeling a lot lighter suddenly, nothing really resolved and so many questions open, but anchored somehow. He inhales deeply and then envisions, antlers growing through the fabric of time and imaginations, weaving visions. Sharpening desires and focusing regrets. 

-This is all I ever wanted.- 

He frowns and then decides, lightly putting his hand on Hannibal’s chest, just over his heart, smirking lopsidedly, smiling more fully when Hannibal covers it with his own, just for a moment, the touch tingling and scorching. Will clicks his tongue, weighing his head.

„It’s not a matter of chemistry, at least…“

An almost imperceptible nod, Hannibal’s hand pressing for a moment before he drops it again.

„You have always allowed my touch.“

Will echoes the nod, feeling the beat under his fingers.

„I have always liked your touch. Maybe because or despite everything.“

Will turns away and steps over onto deck, the sailing yacht just big enough for them, two small cabins available. Stacked for eventualities. He exhales, watching the curtain of rain visible through the open side for a moment. He turns slowly, extending his hand, wordlessly. 

Hannibal looks at him for a long moment, face drawn and Will swallows, before forcing the verbalization, tone raw.

„Touch me.“

He watches as Hannibal blinks, very slowly, before reaching out and taking his hand, the touch scorching. Will nods to himself and then locks their hands and pulls with strength, the force of it making Hannibal stumble over the railing and Will gasps a surprised laugh at the sheer absurdity of the picture he presents, stumbling back two steps, Hannibal coming to a stop with his other hand in a death grip on Will’s shoulder, awkwardly pressing him into the main mast. 

There is a shuddering moment of nothing and then Will chuckles, the laughter ebbing away after a moment again when Hannibal does not chime in. Will sobers and then swallows, eyes flicking back and forth slowly. He shakes his head once, very slowly, whispering.

„I can’t promise anything Hannibal, but if…“

He looks down at their linked hands, both their knuckles white, forcing the words out in a rush.

„If sensation serves… previous proclivities might be amendable for certain people.“

He watches as Hannibals pupils dilate, heat building between them. Will swallows, doggedly pushing on, raising his chin slowly, the breath on his lips rapid. Hannibal’s hand clenches in his own, painful now, his words rushed, pained.

„Will. I…“

Will closes his eyes, knowing the arguments to come, all of them logical of course, brimming with the fatality of taking this step that could destroy what they have already. He shifts his stance, feeling the heat of Hannibal, the hardness there that is not yet echoed by himself. He frowns, his free hand coming up between them, brushing up Hannibal’s suit jacket, locking in in Hannibal’s still damp hair. It feels weird to have to reach up, weirder even still when he pulls and Hannibal comes, the sensation of stubble brushing skin sending shivers down his spine.

There is a sound between them and it is that sound that finally makes Will close the gap, the wounded sound almost brutal with feeling. He presses forward, the moment their lips actually touch frightening in intensity, tingling sensations spreading. Hannibal presses forward suddenly, turning his head and their noses bump, making Will gasp a laugh, turned into a deep moan when Hannibal deepens the kiss, tongue tracing the contours of Will’s lips slowly, followed by little bites and then wet heat again, soothing the flares of heat. Will’s mind is blank, hand flexing in hair, trying to return the kiss but feeling ravished and overwhelmed already, the hand that’s in his own hair suddenly forcibly tilting his head. Hannibal withdraws for a moment, looking at him, and Will opens his mouth slightly, words he couldn’t summon anyway ripped from them as Hannibal pushes in with a moan, his tongue going deep in a way that makes Will light headed. He tightens his fingers and pushes back, slick wet heat receiving him, the sucking sensation idiotically unexpected and going right to his groin. He moans into the kiss and pushes more forcefully, the suction intensifying, and then Hannibal presses forward even more, his leg going in between Will’s, pressing in rhythm with the suction on Will’s tongue and all of Will’s blood rushes south suddenly. Hannibal groans into the kiss and Will utters a moan of approval, drowned in wet heat. Hannibal suddenly drops their linked hands, his right hand going forward and down, pulling Will in by a hand on his ass, not even bothering right now, fingers pressing into the pants very intimately. The hand in Will’s hair flexes and then pulls Will’s head a bit more sideways, enabling deeper access and then Hannibal pushes in and eats Will’s mouth, the action so filthily erotic that it isn’t even weird anymore, suffused with base lust, carried on devotion.

Will basks in it for a long moment, letting the shudders of lust run through him, beyond relieved that whatever this is works for the two of them. He raises his free hand, pushing against Hannibal’s throat slowly, forcing him back by increments, stunned by the wild look in Hannibal’s eyes, all person suits gone.

He licks his lips, the swollen wet heat of them beyond erotic, feeling more than hearing Hannibal’s moan.

„See, sensation serves…“

Hannibal gasps a laugh, his voice low and rumbling.

„May I serve you sensations?“

Will smiles lewdly, feeling the changed lines of his face pull at the scar, his fingers tightening a bit on Hannibal’s throat, violent visions of intentions dreamed up years ago crossing his mind. He presses a bit, elation rushing through him when Hannibal yields, steering him back and around towards the three steps into the cabin by gentle pressure. Hannibal steps down backwards and Will follows, pushing now, and suddenly they’re kissing again, fists in hair pulling harshly.

They stumble into the front cabin, going down in a heap on the narrow bed, with Will straddling Hannibal, one leg on the floor. He breaks the kiss, gasping, relating his grip of Hannibal’s hair to scratch his nails through the short beard, voice breathless.

„It’s weird to do this and not feel it…“

Hannibal drops his hand from his head in favor of dropping both hands to Will’s hips, pushing and pulling gently. Will moves with the suggestion, grinning, feeling weirdly free. His eyes flit around the cabin, frowning a bit. 

„It’s also weird that we didn’t think that we would ever cross the threshold when we equipped the boat… gross oversight in hindsight I guess…“

Hannibal stretches a bit beneath him, undulating slowly, utterly unfazed when his groin presses up into Will’s. Will swallows and then yelps when Hannibal reaches up, releasing a hidden ledger. There is a loud crack and then the floorboard comes up as the bed goes down, aligning with a metal scratching sound.

Will closes his eyes, cackling, shaking his head.

„I might have known…“

Hannibal chimes in, dark glee suffusing his tone.

„It is not yet finished. There are no cushions yet, unfortunately.“

Will hums, gasping when Hannibal’s hands come forward, inching closer. Hannibal locks eyes with him, a sharp-edged expression on his face, watching Will watching him as he pulls his hands down, gently tracing the outline of Will’s cock through his trousers. Will inhales a shuddering breath, his eyes closing when Hannibal starts to softly stroke, in ever bigger strokes, making sure to press between Will’s legs.

„Beautiful…“

It’s whispered and hangs in the air between them, conjuring up the taste of copper and blackish red and pale moonlight.

Hannibal retracts his hands after a moment and Will opens his eyes, breathless. Hannibal’s hands come up, pulling at his curls and Will raises one eyebrow, smirking a bit, his mind catching up easily.

„Liked the haircut on that magazine I gather…“

Hannibal grins lewdly, his voice low when he answers.

„I must admit, I have fantasized about pulling it while having you back then, yes. But, that was long before I met you. Or truly heard about you.“

He hesitates, hands dropping to Will’s throat, stroking very lightly.

„Imagine my surprise when I encountered a true empath in my line of work, famed in the psychiatric community… and he bore your face.“

Hannibal’s fingers press into Will’s Adam’s apple for a moment, his voice almost inaudible.

„Imagining visiting you was a guilty indulgence, only kept at bay by the, as we now know, very valid concern that you might be able to discern my true nature. And rather easily at that.“

Will swallows, eyes locked on Hannibal, silent. Hannibal drops his hands to the neck of Will’s shirt, stroking the skin that is visible there. 

„When Alana contacted me I could not believe my luck. I was also very much concerned. I implemented various fallback plans even before I formally accepted her request, which coincided with Jack coming by.“

Will’s tone is flat, though not unkind.

„And the rest is history.“

Hannibal nods once, serious.

„Yes.“

Will snorts, drily.

„And here I thought fate and circumstance had brought us together.“

Hannibal tilts his head a bit, eyes narrowing.

„They have, Will. Had I not been waiting at a dentists office almost 20 years back, with nothing else to do, I might not have rifled through all those magazines. I might not have seen that truly splendid young man in a black Burberry suit with a polkadot pocket square, staring salaciously and yet defiantly into the camera.“

Hannibal smiles, eyes flashing.

„And had I not been fascinated by the combination with your mental assets already, I might have just killed you when you got too close. But I could not. I was already too much invested. In your mind, your soul and your body.“

Will swallows, fingers playing absently with the buttons of Hannibal’s jacket. 

„And now this body is riddled with scars.“

Hannibal snarls quietly, proudly.

„A beautiful kintsugi.“

Will snorts, derision heavy on his tongue.

„They are your pretentious marks of ownership.“

Hannibal’s hands still for a moment, the admission coming on an exhale.

„Yes…“

Will nods to himself for a moment and then he hauls Hannibal up by his tie, arousal and abject fury mixing to a heady intoxication. He bends down and bites at Hannibal’s lips, drawing blood. He comes back up, gasping.

„Our history is written in blood and breath, Hannibal. Let’s add elements to it.“

He dives back in, not waiting for an answer, the kiss instantly base and deep and wet, indecently delightful, dipped in copper. Hannibal groans and then topples them over, Will hitting the wooden planks with a resounding oomph, snarling when Hannibal wrestles a bit with him, still playfully, but intense. Hannibal finally pushes himself down onto Will, both panting, the alignment of their bodies drawing moans from both of them.

Hannibal rolls his hips and it is weird, the sensation vaguely off-putting in its alienness, vaguely arousing in its meaning. Hannibal scans Will’s face for a long moment and rears a bit up and then pulls Will’s legs up to his hips, watching closely as Will stops breathing for a moment, jaw locking, the implications clear of course, excitement and nausea mixing in his stomach. Hannibal stills, eyes black, hands pressing into the meat of Will’s outer thighs. And then he sighs, a hint of relaxation entering his features, bending down to breathe a kiss onto Will’s lips. 

„Not today.“

Will’s eyes close for a moment, voice gravelly.

„I’m sorry. Too fast. I know all about it as you know, as it is part of profiling after all, but… applying it to myself is … weird.“

Hannibal hums for a moment, tilting his head in a vaguely reptile manner, the corner of his eyes crinkling. 

„And maybe a proper bed with proper preparation would help.“

Will snorts, clearing his throat, his hands flexing on Hannibal’s forearms. 

„Maybe.“

Hannibal lets go of Will’s left leg, pulling at his right hand, lifting Will’s fingers to his lips, whispering against them.

„You’re still in need to be undressed.“

Will shudders, chills of forgotten wet clothes and anticipation running through him. Hannibal snarls and then takes Will’s fore- and middle finger into his mouth, all the way, sucking. The long groan frees itself from Will’s throat, eyes closing when Hannibal perfectly demonstrates his intentions. 

„Fuck.“

One long lick up his fingers while Hannibal pulls them out slowly, sending tendrils of suggestive fire to Will’s groin.

„Not today.“

Will chuckles breathlessly at this, following Hannibal’s wordless instructions to undress, his shirt falling open, the belt pulled out matter of factly afterwards. Hannibal scuttles back a bit and then bends down, breathing in deeply and Will is insanely glad he is still clothed in his trousers yet, because his body is definitely getting with that program.

Hannibal looks up then, eyes fathomless black, checking for a last permission apparently, and Will nods wildly, needing suddenly. They shuffle a bit around and then Hannibal pulls down Will’s trousers with his underwear, the chilled air doing nothing to stem the arousal, excitement and terror and lust and want and fear all mixing in Will’s stomach. Hannibal reaches forward and ghosts his hand over, drawing a sigh. And then he falls forward and swallows Will down, the shout ripped from Will’s throat reverberating through the little cabin. Hannibal swallows and Will’s head falls back, thudding onto the wood, eyes sightless on the ceiling. His hands find Hannibal’s head by themselves and then Hannibal’s other hand tightens their hold in it and Will moans deeply, something shifting in him. He clenches his hands in Hannibal’s hair and holds, pulling up until he has freed himself, pushing Hannibal down again after a moment. He holds for a long moment, feels the compulsive swallows, feels how the spit trickles down and then he moves his hips, his fingers holding Hannibal in a death grip, moans he cannot contain mixing with heavy breathing. And then Hannibal scrapes his teeth over Will when he pulls out and Will yells, snarling, arousal slamming down, his spine tingling. Hannibal growls around him and then forces his head down despite Will’s grip, his tongue swirling, the suction intense. Will’s world narrows down to that mouth, now, there, iridescent pleasure rushing up to him, unstoppable, his hips stuttering by themselves, and then he falls, feeling Hannibal swallow him down.

Hannibal releases him when Will hisses with oversensitivity, looking positively wrecked, spit-soaked chin glistening, the most debauched Will has ever seen him. Yet, Will’s mind supplies treacherously, and Will pulls him up by his hair, hesitating for a long moment before pulling him down for a deep kiss, the taste of himself on Hannibal’s tongue strangely enticing. He feels Hannibal fumble between them and then the obvious motions, fast and almost desperate and Will angles his head, deepening the kiss and Hannibal moans, wet heat between them and coating Will’s stomach, sticky and base. Will inhales the moan and then breaks the kiss, groaning, licking his lips. Hannibal looks up, bangs having fallen into his eyes, his left hand going between them without looking down. Will frowns and then doesn’t anymore, the action of Hannibal tracing the scar easily far more intimate than the blow job was, the air between them heavy.

And then Hannibal pulls up and away, retrieving a washcloth to wash Will down wordlessly, expression intense, concentrated and vaguely sheepish and Will lets him, spread out on the future bed that Hannibal made, for them. He pulls out a blanket after and covers Will with it, smoothing it down. Will watches him, silent, following Hannibal as he steps back, turning to leave the little room.

„Rest a bit, mylimasis. I will make us coffee.“

With that he is gone and Will frowns in somewhat amused annoyance, stretching on the hard wood. He reaches out to the in-wall-closet, opening on a whim. Inside are clothes for him, from jeans to dress shirts. And suits. Will narrows his eyes and then pushes himself up, pulling at the last one there, all the way in the back, knowing already. 

Well. The bastard.

Time for payback.

 

******

 

„You bought the suit.“

A pause and an inhale, literally scenting Will’s state of mind probably. Hannibal finishes preparing the coffee in the miniature kitchenette and then turns, expression almost neutral, the defiant pride etched into it somehow, bleeding rapidly into vulnerability as he swallows harshly when he sees Will wearing the suit and nothing else. Will gesticulates up to the little slot on the left side.

„Couldn’t find the polkadot pocket square. Sorry.“

Hannibal clears his throat.

„It’s in the drawer in the other cabin.“

„Ah.“

Will saunters closer, watching Hannibal watching..

„The style is overhauled, Hannibal. By decades. I don’t think I will be wearing it … somewhere else.“

Hannibal nods, silent, and Will grins suddenly, touching his left canine with his tongue, laughter coloring his tone.

„You were envisioning bending me over the counter here right now, weren’t you?“

Hannibal’s eyes snap up to his and Will laughs outright, holding up a hand to stop Hannibal from responding.

„Oh please.“

Hannibal steps up and kisses him, lightly, delighted devotion obvious in every move of his lips, hands at his side.

„I apologize. This… whole afternoon is, as banal as it may sound, a dream come true.“

Will leans forward, pressing a kiss back onto Hannibal’s lips, whispering.

„A wet dream.“

He draws back chuckling, laughing again outright at the pained expression on Hannibal’s face.

„What a vicious boy you are.“

Will’s eyes flash.

„I’m only beginning to realize my full… potential, Doctor.“

Hannibal narrows his eyes, tilting his head.

„By tormenting me with unattainable visions and bad sexual puns.“

Will hums, smirking cruelly.

„Nobody said anything about unattainable, Hannibal. Just not currently… on the menu. And I have suffered through years of cannibal puns, some of them so outrageously obvious it is still mind-boggling you could ever hide in plain sight.“

He steps back, drawing his hands down his lapels.

„It really is a shame… how about this. You can buy the perfume and I can wear that from time to time. I think you would like it.“

Hannibal inhales, nodding once.

„I would like that, I believe.“

Will smiles at him and then sobers up slowly, a serious expression entering his features.

„We will make this work, Hannibal. One… fellatio at a time.“

He snorts and turns, entering the cabin to the almost silent groan of Hannibal, almost hidden in the sounds of the coffee machine. Will looks up snickering, catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the little porthole. His vision wavers for a moment, a tear of relief and elation falling unheeded and he turns, searching for dry underwear.

**Author's Note:**

> ____
> 
>  
> 
> Feedback, opinions or comments appreciated.  
> Burberry Brit is the perfume's name :).


End file.
